Defence Against the Defence Teachers
by Chaosbeastie
Summary: YGOHP crossover. When three Ancient Egyptian spirits come to teach at Hogwarts, life becomes more complicated than a certain dark lord knows how to deal with... possible yaoi, proSlytherin. [ON HOLD]
1. Of Hats and History

AN: Succumbing to peer pressure, I am now writing a YGO/HP crossover. Hah! I looked through all the clichés, worked out what most people were taking for granted and not changing, then did my best to turn them upside down. 

If I had to dedicate this story to someone (which I don't), it would be to Lizeth, and/or Jase Shadowstar, who are also writing rather excellent YGO/HP fanfics.

Unclaimer: OK, so I don't own them. Like that's going to stop me at all. Mwahahahahahahahah!!!!!!!!!! *insane laughter* 

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Dumbledore sighed, running his fingers through silvery hair and allowing himself a rare moment of uncertainty, a luxury that - as headmaster - he could not often afford. His bright blue eyes were troubled, behind his half-moon spectacles as he contemplated the matter at hand. 

Ever since the job had acquired the curse, getting new teachers for Defence against the Dark Arts had been becoming harder and harder. 

Every year he was faced with the possibility that the Hat wouldn't be able to find a replacement for the position. 

Last year it had not done so, and the position had been eventually filled by Delores Umbridge of the Ministry. 

It was not a situation that the headmaster was anxious to repeat. 

The Sorting Hat was a far more complicated device than even Albus could begin to understand the workings of, and the headmaster treated it more like a friend than a teaching aid. 

It was old enough to have a character of its own, and was actually considered alive - and with legal rights - under the magical entities act of 1066. (Hogwarts was another of these living magical creations; the two conspired together on a regular basis.)

Godric had been excessively fond of his Hat. 

Salazar had given it to him as a joke-gift on his birthday, and ever since then Gryfindor's founder had worn it whenever it was reasonable to do so, and sometimes when it wasn't (see Hogwarts a History, the really truly unabridged edition, page 178.) 

Time had allowed it to assimilate the personalities of all four founders, although it was always more in tune with its creator Salazar, and its long-time owner Godric, than either of the others. 

These characters were mostly dormant - after centuries of 'life' the Hat preferred to sleep for most of the year, waking for few reasons other than to produce the lists of new students to invite to Hogwarts, and when the time came, to sort them into houses. 

And, recently, to choose the new DADA professor. 

As it was doing now, just as usual. 

Usual, except that this time, the Hat was more awake than it had been in years.

None of which, of course, was relevant to the subject under consideration. 

It just provided some explanation as to why Dumbledore was awaiting with more trepidation normal whatever solution - or lack thereof - the Hat might provide.

The power that had been gathering inside the Hat finally began to focus, silver and blue sparks - house colours of Slytherin and Ravenclaw combined - gaining substance quickly. 

A small popping sound later, a silver envelope addressed in metallic blue ink floated to the table. Dumbledore had to concentrate to make out the words, from the shadowed, archaic font they were written in. 'Rakura, It depends, Domino City'. The addresses had a way of self-updating once they were closer to their targets. 

~Isn't Domino City somewhere in Japan? This is certainly going to be an interesting year.~ 

A second popping sound signified a shower of red, gold, and black - Gryfindor, Hufflepuff - sparks forming another envelope. Black, this time, with gold writing and ruby shadows. 

~Two?~ The headmaster's surprise was only slightly muted by the memory of Harry Potter's fourth year, and the Goblet of Fire. The Sorting Hat had never done this before. He scanned the text quickly. 'Yugioh Mouto, Game Shop, Domino City.' 

A third popping noise heralded a third envelope, this one gold and lavender. ~Lavender? What house is that?~ It was addressed to 'Ma'ik Ishtar, I don't have a clue but probably. . . Domino City.' Albus puzzled for a moment over the apostrophe and the unusually vague address, then shrugged. 

Rakura, Yugioh, and Ma'ik. It seemed that Hogwarts would not be suffering from a shortage Defence masters this year.

Had anyone been there to witness it, they would have noticed that Dumbledore's trademark twinkle had reappeared in full force. He checked the Hat one last time to be sure that was the last letter - no more sparks appeared to be gathering - before trotting off to tell Minerva the good news.

Behind him in the office, one last envelope coalesced from the shadows. In curling, dark emerald writing, the name 'Severus Snape' could barely be made out against the silver-black background. The red-haired goddess smirked in delight. The potential this situation held was . . . inspiring. She bowed respectfully to the Hat - an action oddly out of character for her, who respected no one - before seizing the letter and darting away to get it posted. 

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And so the Gods play chess with the lives of men, and when they are loosing, with pick up the playing board and throw the pieces across the room in a fit of petulance. 

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Review please. It would make me happy. And when I'm happy I like torturing poor defenceless fictional characters. In other words, I'd update faster. So reviewing is good thing, that you must do, yes? Please, please, please! I wanna know what you thought of it. REVIEW, YOU COWARDLY MUSTARD-COLOURED ROTTING PUSCULES! OR ELSE!!!! 

That task completed, my friends, live long and prosper. Until next time . . . farewell

And do something each day to traumatise those who have no imagination, and to delight those who do.

Eris, Goddess of Discord, Darklady of the Spire, and Patroness of Chaos 


	2. Of Daggers and Decisions

AN: Skip to the bottom and review the story, you can read it later.

Anticlaimerer: I don't own Yugioh or Harry Potter, and I don't care who does.

Warnings: Over use of Dagger as a prop. Confident Ryou. A member of the ODD (Owls Disliking Dumbledore).

Enjoy the day, my friends, for it could be your last. No really, it could. Think about it.

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Bakura smirked, idly tossing the dagger he had been polishing at his hikari. Ryou squeaked and tumbled off his chair, rolling to his feet in a defensive stance an instant later. "I was reading!" he said indignantly, glaring at his dark side.

"And I was bored" Bakura answered equably. "So now you are not." Ryou huffed, not really upset, and retrieved his book from the floor. Setting it on the coffee table, he turned to pull the knife from the chair back. 

"That one's for you," his yami informed him abruptly. "Do you like it?" The spirit was still wary when it came to giving presents; it was too much like being 'nice' for him to be comfortable with it.

Ryou studied the slender silver blade critically. A smooth silver hilt set with a single round saphire fitted easily in his hand. The balance was nothing short of perfect. Ryou tossed it up experimentally and caught it, delighting in the ease with which it cut through the air. He smiled brilliantly at Bakura. "It's beautiful. Thank you."

Relaxing slightly, Ryou's yami returned the smile, glints of sardonic humour shining in dark mahogany eyes.

Ryou turned his head, distracted, as something caught his eye. "What's this? I didn't see it before." He held out the silver envelope to his yami, who accepted it.

Bakura scanned the address and froze. "_Rakura._ It's addressed to Rakura."

Ryou went pale. "But who would know to call us that?"

"No one, that's who." There was a dangerous edge to the spirit's voice, made up of combined fear and anger, under icy control. He frowned. Combining Light and Dark into one person with the strengths of both was not something they did when they could avoid it, their own personal phobias forbid that. Not even the Yugi-tachi should have known the name of his and Ryou's fused form. It was also the name the two had used in their occasional dealings with the criminal underworld, but again nobody should have connected that deadly team with the shy and polite Ryou Bakura of Domino high-school. Any of the possible explanations meant danger to them.

"It could be a simple spelling mistake," Ryou offered doubtfully, not believing it himself. "Either way, we won't know until we open it."

He nodded his agreement and tore open the envelope, spreading it on the table so they could both read it.

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Rakura Shadowstealer,

You are hereby invited, along with two others, to fill the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts, at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Should you choose to accept, the Hogwarts express will be leaving from Domino Station, platform 3½, every Tuesday at 12:00 noon. Please send a reply with the owl that delivered this letter, informing us of your decision, and/or date of arrival. 

Bakura knew with absolute certainty that this wasn't some kind of weird hoax. He could sense the power that had gone into making the letter; magic much younger than any he was familiar with.

__

We await your owl.

The spirit had begun to relax when he saw the owl, but he was still visibly tense, half expectant of an attack. So Ryou felt no surprise at all when his dark side reacted to this new circumstance by attacking it. 

She was a light silvery grey colour and had a talent for making herself inconspicuous. Had done so, in fact, with enough success that even Bakura had not noticed her presence until now. She dodged the blade the yami flung, with more agility than an owl on the ground (or in this case the coffee table) should have been capable of, but refused to give any more ground than she absolutely had to. Shaking ruffled feathers back into place, she appeared to be trying very hard to look unthreatening. The spirit chuckled darkly. "You have a great deal of common sense for a bird, haven't you?" The bird looked sarcastic. Bakura laughed again. "I do like you, lady." He held out an arm, which she took, carefully not digging her talons in even though the pain would not likely have bothered him. "So you belong to the school, do you? I think I shall steal you." The bird nibbled his finger approvingly. "You need a name. Calling you 'the bird' all the time is going to get old pretty fast."

"Mithril," Ryou spoke up. "It means true-silver."

"It suits her, aibou. I like it."

Silence settled over them, gently. Mithril was good company for thinking with, and they knew each other well enough that the need to discuss matters was almost eliminated. Ryou curled up again in his chair, while Bakura retrieved the dagger he had thrown at Mithril and turned it over and over in his hands, hypnotised by the shifting reflections in the blade.

"We are going, are we not? Ryou's soft voice lifted the silence. "If we don't, we will always wonder."

"I hate lost chances," Bakura answered darkly, as if half caught in a memory that hurt. His decision was obvious enough, though. After a few minutes, he scrawled a note on a piece of paper and handed it to Mithril. "Safe flight, lady. We'll meet you there." 

Hours later, Albus looked up to a tapping on his tower window. The note that fell to the floor was even briefer and to-the-pointer than the letter had been. 'Fine. See you tomorrow.' 

Today was Monday. Albus looked around for the owl he had used to send the letter, but couldn't see one. He shrugged, returning his attention to his paperwork. 

Mithril settled down on the corner of his desk, fixing her scathing gaze on the Headmaster as she waited for her new friends to arrive.

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Murphy's Law: If something can go wrong it will go wrong, unless I really like you and make an exception. In which case, let the rest of the world run screaming, don't worry - you'll be fine. 

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Review replies:

Miss Matched, Cyborgirl0016, Princess Krystal01: ARRRGH!!! NO! NO! NO! Those aren't their names, try waiting and reading the next few chapters before assuming I've made a mistake. I'm a Goddess - I don't do mistakes. Delighted you like the story.

Starlit Hope: Did I put this under Romance? I'm sure I'd have noticed. Yami/Hikari pairs if anything, but only if you have your mind in the gutter. 

Lady Silver Dragon I: I like you, I do! In regards to the quote - if you've read the Discworld series by Terry Pratchett then you know who corrupted me, and I have a whole pantheon of Gods and Goddesses as muses, I wouldn't put interfering past them. As for the Yaoi aspect, my views on love are as follows: 

Friendship = Love

Friendship + Sex = Love

Sex doesn't= Love

Love = Love, whether it is romantic or not, and neither is necessarily stronger than the other. 

Oversimplified I know. I also reckon everyone in fan-worlds should be bi - it gives us so many more choices to play with.

Of course in fandoms if two people are friends someone will eventually pair them up, as if you can't be friends who would do literally anything for one another without being romantically involved. This annoys me. The Yami and Hikari pairs will love each other and their relationships will be important, but they are not necessarily romantically involved. I sincerely hope you keep reading this, and enjoy it! ;)

bloodyriver: glad you like. this is next one soon, but i might not keep it up. we'll see.

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Don't forget to review! Six really isn't good enough - I know you can do better.

Until next time friends, I remain 

Your obedient servant

Eris, Goddess of Discord, Darklady of the Spire, and Patroness of Chaos.


	3. Of Malik and Memories

Chapter Three: Of Malik and Memories

Marik was thinking. It was a hobby he had picked up recently to replace his old one of 'try to take over the world.' He had found it seriously disturbing at first, especially when he realised that he had never wanted to take over the world in the first place. What would he do with it anyway? No, he hadn't wanted to take over the world - he had wanted to destroy it. So had Malik. And now they didn't. Neither had coped too well at the loss of the main driving force in their lives.

Malik had looked at Isis and snarled "How would you feel if you had a dream and the will to carry it out, but you knew that those who claimed to love you would do practically anything to prevent that from happening?"

Isis hadn't answered. And Marik had tipped back his head and laughed, because at least his light side had loved ones to strike out at and hurt, and because the boy's dream to see the world had come true despite everything his sister had tried.

When he was younger, Malik had been different. He had been just as quick to anger, to feel hurt, but he had also been swift to take joy in the simplest of things and to laugh just from happiness. His one sight of the world filled him with wonder, and a terrible longing to see more. Terrible, because Malik had been spoiled, not by having too much but by having too little. His longing changed as he grew older, never to acceptance but to bitterness and hatred. The painful creation of the tattoos on his back was one final straw of many. Malik's young self - the one that could see the beauty in the world - had been lost long before Malik and Marik ever met, and so Marik had only met the child in his hikari's memories, tainted by the young man's bitterness and need for revenge. 

Now was different. What was the point in taking revenge on those who hadn't hurt you, when those which had - like Isis - you care to much about to destroy. The only person that really deserved Malik's vengeance was Marik, and for some reason his hikari seemed to include him in the list of people he cared about. Malik still didn't trust him much though, a fact that Marik disliked extremely. True, he had tried to take over the boy's body, but that had been before he had seen him smile. 

They had been in a garden. Marik didn't remember why. He had been strong enough by then to be substantial even to non-millennium item holders, (the theory being that it had something to do with the amount of time he had had a host and wasn't just trapped in the rod.) He was there only because he felt like it, and because his hikari couldn't do a thing about it. 

Malik had caught at his dark side's hand spontaneously. "Marik, look! Isn't it beautiful?" And Marik had looked, for the first time in his life. A world that had once only contained madness and darkness, now contained madness, darkness and a butterfly, and the sight of his aibou's face bright with delight. The ex-assassin had never seen anything like it before, and it fascinated him. Now, above all desire for power, or the world, or revenge, he wanted to see Malik smile and laugh again and mean it, just like he had then.

He did so now, notes of astonishment and wonder drawing him out of his thoughts. "Look yami, someone's sent us an owl with a letter!" Which was nonsense of course, except that there really was an owl - looking extremely elegant and predatory in bright gold plumage - perched on Malik's shoulder. "Isn't he gorgeous?" Marik had to admit that he was, but that didn't stop him from watching suspiciously as his light opened the obviously enchanted letter. "It's for both of us, I think." Malik scanned the letter quickly and handed it to Marik. "I'll just tell Isis we're leaving tomorrow, then we can get ready to leave." He disappeared upstairs, leaving Marik to read.

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Ma'ik Ishtar,

You are hereby invited, along with two others, to fill the position of Defence 

Against the Dark Arts, at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Should you 

choose to accept, the Hogwarts express will be leaving from Domino Station, 

platform 3½, every Tuesday at 12:00 noon. Please send a reply with the owl that 

delivered this letter, informing us of your decision, and/or date of arrival.

We await your owl.

Their far from normal background was not one that promoted disbelief in a school of magic. Marik's greatest shock was that anyone would consider him or Malik as suitable teachers. ~How do they know we won't abuse our position?~ As soon as that thought occurred to him, another followed it. ~How indeed?~ Ever since Isis had insisted on their disbanding the Ghouls, they had missed having minions. This was going to be fun.

That evening, Dumbledore was accosted by an arrogant golden owl with a very sharp beak. "Why is it that I end up sending out the only group of owls that have an extreme dislike for me on one of the most important missions of the year?"

Fawkes looked at him smugly. Albus sighed. "They are the fastest, true. But - ouch!" The owl saw fit to remind him he was supposed to be suffering, and at least trying to retrieve the letter.

Ma'ik's reply, once he had wrested it from the owl, seemed hardly worth the effort. One word. 'Tomorrow.' 

He put it next to the note from Rakura that had said 'Fine, see you tomorrow.'

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In the Beginning, God created the Heavens and the Earth. This has made a lot of people very angry, and is generally regarded as a bad move. Until it is ascertained which God it was, however, it is lamentably impossible to press charges, or even to get Him to rectify His mistake. Which suits everybody just fine, thankyou-very-much, in an "I'm sure we will look into the matter when we're not quite so busy now get out" kind of way. You can almost see the insincerity condensing on the windowpane.

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That chapter was a bit strange, I think. Certainly AU in places. Please review and tell me what you think. I like questions - especially intelligent ones! 

Review replies:

Cyborgirl0016, ruth 4 kai, Kanberry - Thanx! Glad you like.

Starlit Hope - I've confused myself now. If there are pairings they will be yaoi (hikari/yami) hence the warning. But who knows . . .

Dark-necrophhia666 - *removes hand from sword-hilt and curtseys in return* Delighted to hear that, I certainly shall. I don't know that much about the actual cards, so if you'd tell me a bit about the necro' there's a good chance I'd use it in my story. Up to you, of course.

Silvie - All quotes are adopted then adapted as suits my fancy. Read Discworld or suffer my wrath. The hitchhikers guide to the galaxy too, while you're at it.

Murphy is actually part of my pantheon - the God of Irony, I believe. )If you know how to get on his good side, this is actually not a bad thing.)

DBZ? Oh, you mean the fusions? Yep. It's a really cool concept - lots of fun. Imagine a fusion of Anzu and Pegasus. On second thoughts. . . don't.

In this reality the yamis get gradually more 'real' the longer they spend out of their items. So they can be solid when they want to be now. (In truth, I just thought it was more fun that way.) I do have an excuse for Ryou and Bakura trusting each other, but that would be a spoiler.

I haven't read the manga, or even seen the end of Battle City *sounds of screaming and breaking china are heard in the distance.* Reruns happened. I expect this is AU - oh well.

And it is Mithril - I checked. (Fellowship of the Ring, just after Moria) 

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I shall return! MwahahahahahaMWAHAHAHAHAHA!

Yours Insincerely 

Eris, Goddess of Discord, Darklady of the Spire, and Patroness of Chaos.


	4. Of Hair of Hikari

Chapter Four: Of Hair of Hikari

Yugi was having a bad day. At the advanced age of eighteen, he was now only very short, and as angelic as ever. He looked fluffy. His golden bangs curled in soft waves around his face, and the rest of his hair fell in red and black ringlets down his back. The hikari was at a loss to do anything about this, as his hair had always maintained it's usual spikes without any interference from himself. He had no idea why today it chosen to be curly instead, but he didn't like it. That's not to say that Yugi wasn't being his normal adorable self - he was. He smiled sweetly at his yami. "Don't worry about me, darkness, I'll be fine." 

The Pharaoh seemed remarkably unperturbed by Yugi's plight, especially when you consider his protectiveness towards the boy. It is possible however, that Yami did not consider insane hair to be a threat when not applied to himself. He smirked lightly. "Naturally. It's not like bad hair is fatal, after all."

"Of course not, Yami." Still smiling sweetly, Yugi picked up a rubric's cube and hurled it. The Pharaoh didn't even have time to duck before the cube connected with his left cheekbone with a sickening crack. Dazed red eyes blinked at Yugi, a mix of pain, shock and confusion swirling in their depths. For all the time they had known each other, Yami had very seldom seen his light side loose his temper, and had therefore not picked up on the danger signs in time to avoid it. One hand rose to cover the swiftly appearing bruise on his cheek. Being corporeal did have its disadvantages. His hikari bolted across the room and flung his arms around him. 

"I'm sorry Yami," Yugi whispered, cuddling his dark side apologetically. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"It's my own fault aibou," Yami said gently. "I shouldn't have antagonised you like that. Now, let's do something about that hair."

When, about an hour or so later, Yugi's hair was still resisting all attempts to turn it back to normal, (water, hair-ties, hair-gel, hammering, ironing, etc.) they finally gave up.

The Pharaoh decreed that they would have ice-cream cupcakes for lunch (they had missed breakfast) in a _successful_ attempt to cheer Yugi up, and for a while they ate in companionable silence. Yugi smiled and licked the remaining ice-cream off his nose, before idly sorting through the morning mail. He ended up with one letter left over - a strange black envelope with red and gold writing, which Yugi thought was rather pretty. After a moment's indecision, he biffed it at Yami.

Reading it, his dark side chuckled in amused exasperation. "It would help if someone specified which Game King they were writing to," he commented wryly.

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Yugioh Moutou,

You are hereby invited to fill the position of Potions Professor, at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Should you choose to accept, the Hogwarts express will be leaving from Domino Station, platform 3½, every Tuesday at 12:00 noon. Please send a reply with the owl that delivered this letter, informing us of your decision, and/or date of arrival.

We await your owl.

Yugi was puzzled. "What owl?" he asked doubtfully. Yami stared intently into his hikari's hair. "Yami? Yami, wake up." 

His dark side reached out carefully and extracted a tiny bundle of feathers from Yugi's mass of black and red ringlets. The bundle was black too, with red chest feathers. It shook itself and opened steady gold eyes as confident as Yami's own. Its wings spread slightly for balance and they caught glimpses of bright gold under its wings. "I believe they mean this owl, aibou." The tiny tri-coloured owl slipped from his grasp to return to its nest in Yugi's hair. Yugi sighed, but left it there - it was not as if his hair could get any worse, after all. 

Somewhere far away, a brown-eyed god looked up at this, the corners of his mouth twitching into a mischievous smile. **_Oh, can't it? We'll see about that_**.

The tricolour haired boys returned to studying the letter. 

"It sounds challenging," Yami mused. Since the main bits and pieces of his destiny had been fulfilled there had been precious little excitement in their lives. He craved a challenge the same way normal people craved large quantities of chocolate. It was better for him too, and made him just as hyper. Here was something new he could overcome.

It never occurred to the Pharaoh that he could loose. His supreme confidence was only saved from being called arrogance because it was true - he never lost. And even if he no longer had a kingdom, and his few remaining 'subjects' had not the slightest interest in obeying him, he was still a ruler. He wanted desperately to try this teaching position. Now if only Yugi would agree. . .

"Um, Yami?"

"Yes aibou?"

"Do you think they'd know how to fix my hair?"

Yami grinned.

Albus had managed to find more than a few excuses to avoid his office, and - incidentally - the aggressive golden owl that had inhabited it. By the time he ran out of excuses and returned to the place, it was evening, and the last answer that he had been expecting had arrived. The tri-coloured owl looked very fluffy and contented as it continued to consume the last of the headmaster's supply of lemon drops. Dumbledore snarled. The small ball of feathers instantly demonstrated its survival skills by fluttering away to hide behind Fawkes. Fortunately for the owl, Dumbledore reflected later, it had dropped the letter on his desk before consuming his entire lemon drop supply. It was one less reason for him to strangle it. 

Albus took seven deep, calming breaths, forcing - allowing - the tension that had accumulated over the day to drain out of him. Tranquilly, he scanned the reply note from Yugioh, noting that this one was marginally less brief, but also less definite, which could be said to outweigh its good points. 

__

We accept your challenge. You may expect us either this Tuesday, or the next.

Regards, Yugioh

Interesting that at least two, and probably all three, were planning to arrive as soon as possible. It was quite unexpected.

The headmaster calmly collected all three of the notes, and cast a quick charm to affix them to the dart-board he had set up in the corner of his office for later use. He then tried several cleaning spells, until he finally found one that would remove owl droppings, after which he slumped down into his chair and proceeded to ignore the world in general and three members of the ODD in particular. Half-shut blue eyes twinkled irrepressibly, behind half-moon spectacles.

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"If there's anything more important than my ego, I want it caught and shot now."

~Zaphod Beeblebrox, Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams

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In case you've forgotten, ODD stands for Owls Disliking/Despising Dumbledore.

Currently vying for the title 'most faithful reviewer' are Cyborgirl0016, and Silvie (Lady Silver Dragon I) who have both reviewed all three chapters so far. I have yet to work out a decent points system - there should be bonuses for constructive criticism, intelligent questions, humour, amount of personality, etc. And why has nobody asked what Ma'ik's owl is called?

Reavywe replise:

Cyborgirl0016 - * Wipes blob of icecream off nose and screams "SUGAR" * Thanx! *An expression of deep concern over Joey's plight is conspicuously absent on Eris' face.

Hobbit13 - Close but no cigar. Ya know the only one of the three likely to have a restraining influence? The Pharaoh? He's teaching potions instead. And guess who the third DADA professor is? I'll try to watch Dumbledore's character, but right at the moment he is having a very bad day. Even semi-omniscient Order leaders can have bad days, yes? He's on Eris' hit list.

Silvie - Late fees huh? *grimaces in complete understanding. Murphy appeared in this chapter, did you see? In my train. . . *random idea pops up* I don't own the Hogwarts' Express, perhaps I should create my own train. Golden Sun, what's Golden Sun? I want it, whatever it is. Glad you think Malik & Marik are in character - I can't tell. They will be crazier/bitterer when they are in chapters with stuff to be crazy/bitter about, and to terrorise. Do try to get on Mithril's good side - she has powerful friends so you don't want her mad at you. Owls are smarter than you think. *Fades into distance, followed by random thundercloud and four sheep.*

Mavelus - Mmmm. _Nice_ compliment. I hope I can live up to the challenge.

Kanberry - *looks innocent* Did I say minions? I meant students.

Inu-Ice-Dragon - Thanks. I will make sure it _will_ be.

Eris, Goddess of Discord, Darklady of the Spire, and Patroness of Chaos

Requests and Requires your advice, enthusiasm, and adulation, 

Review Please.


	5. Of Severus and Sirius, Separately

Chapter Five: Of Severus Snape and Sirius, (Separately)

Severus Snape did not enjoy Potions. They held too many memories that were either painful or alluring, and almost all better forgotten. He had had that choice, but sacrificing the lessons he had learnt, even those learnt the hard way, was not something the Slytherin could do. So he kept his shadows, and never loved Potions, though he was brilliant at them. He did, however derive a great deal of satisfaction from a job perfectly completed. That, for now, would suffice.

Even so, holidays were the worst.

Often when people are asked a simple question such as 'how are you?' they will give an equally simple answer. 'Fine,' for example, has the benefit of being both a satisfactory answer, and completely untrue. 

Severus Snape was fine. In his case, 'fine' meant 'if you do not drown yourself and rid the world of your disgusting existence, I will be forced to do so for you. And I will enjoy it.' The word had enough potential sullen menace embedded in it to induce people to seriously consider his suggestion. It was fortunate, therefore, that nobody had the necessary idiocy it would have taken for them to ask after the Potions Master's health.

He didn't like holidays. Without the unending distractions the students provided, there wasn't much to do to stop him from thinking. Not that there weren't plenty of things he should get done, there were. They just weren't a challenge to him.

At the present moment, Snape was holed up in his quarters, there having been little enough reason for him to be bothered leaving them. The potions master's rooms looked precisely like most of the school unconsciously assumed them to look like, down to the dark stone and equally dark green decor, and assorted implements of torture.

The fact that the vast majority of this was an illusion was irrelevant. The professor could see through it effortlessly if he wished to. At the moment, he didn't. 

The black owl and the letter it carried blended seamlessly into the false background. Severus' instincts acknowledged and dismissed both bird and mail as non threatening long before the spy bothered to give them his full attention.

Professor Severus Snape,

You are hereby invited, along with two others, to fill the position of Defence 

Against the Dark Arts, at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Should you 

choose to accept, the Hogwarts express will be leaving from Domino Station, 

platform 3½, every Tuesday at 12:00 noon. Please send a reply with the owl that 

delivered this letter, informing us of your decision, and/or date of arrival.

We await your owl. 

P.S. If Dumbledore has been paying such insufficient attention that he doesn't realise you are the third Defence teacher, that's his problem, don't you think?

Snape's mood lightened a few degrees as he scanned the letter, just enough to allow a genuine smile to appear on his face - sadistic and sardonic, perhaps, but still a smile. He could 

catch the signature twist to the writing that indicated the sorting hat had created it. The 

headmaster would not even have read it.

This owl looked identical to his own Vader, except where Vader's wing feathers were edged in silver, this one's were edged in gold. And she was female. "I think," he said, in a low tone that carried as far as the owl and no further, "I will call you Sidious." He caressed her chest feathers ever so lightly as he spoke.

******************************************************************

Somewhere in the Realm of Shadows, a figure knelt, arms wrapped around himself in a futile attempt to ward off the darkness. Once-bright blue eyes held a resigned expression amidst the pain and fear, almost as if this - or something akin to this - had happened to him before.

At the touch of a hand on his arm, he flinched violently, springing to his feet in a posture that screamed mistrust. Shadi's blank gaze met his own and held him motionless. "You should not be here," the guardian stated tonelessly. "Come."

Sirius Black followed.

******************************************************************


	6. Of Trains and Tactics

Update? Oh! Thanks for reminding me. This is the first half of chapter six, which is why I took so long to decide to post it. It kept growing in unexpected directions. Have given up on formatting and am using ramdom OOOOOOs as placeholders.

Enjoy!

OOOOOO

**Chapter Six:** Of Trains and Tactics, part 1 The Hogwarts Express

Five minutes to twelve Yugi gave up searching for the platform, and simply leant against the wall between numbers three and four, doing his best to ignore the tension radiating from his other half. Yami wasn't pacing. Ancient pharaohs of dignity and power, Yugi decided, apparently didn't. Every now and then he would twitch slightly, while Yugi watched in amusement. The hikari was comparatively relaxed, looking forward to this new adventure, even if his yami had decided it was a trap. He liked traps, they were interesting to get out of. He was even mostly used to his curls, tied back in a mass of red, gold and black.

The warm tickle of magic at his back alerted Yugi in time for him to see the bricks of the wall melt away. Through the archway that had just appeared, a bright red steam engine was pulling up at a station that might have been taken from a storybook. "Well, darkness," he called lightly, "it looks like this is it!"

"Wait, aibou!"

Despite Yami's earlier enthusiasm, he had a Feeling about the coming challenge. Not necessarily a bad feeling as such, but definitely a 'none of us will come out of this unchanged' kind of feeling that left him restlessly uneasy. And I have a suspicion that 'us' doesn't just refer to myself and Yugi, either.

In any case, he stopped not-pacing very abruptly indeed, and hurried after his light.

OOOOO

A silver haired figure detached itself from the shadows, passing unnoticed as it slipped silently after the game kings. The combined form of thief and hikari blended with the shadows on the platform for a few brief seconds before moving to blend with those on the train.

OOOOOO

OOOOOO

There were three compartments, set out with one on each side of the carriage and one at the back. Yugi chose one of the side ones and Yami followed, still refusing to relax.

"Yami. Tell me what's wrong." Yugi's tone didn't leave room for debate.

His darkness sighed. "I could have sworn I felt someone watching us back there." Yami said restlessly. "And I can't place who, but I'm sure I know them."

A light silvery voice answered. "I wouldn't be surprised."

Yugi looked up in delight. "Ryou?"

"You could say that."

Yami snarled. "Tomb robber."

"That too." The silver haired fusion paused. Scorn for one warred with affection for the other, but Yami spared Rakura the inconvenience of having to make up his mind.

"Ryou, if you can hear me don't worry. I'll banish him before he can hurt you." The elder Game King reached for his deck almost automatically, to eliminate the indirect threat to his Hikari. Not that he had time to do anything, considering Rakura reacted first.

There was a crackle of power, and suddenly there were two silver haired boys, the second glaring at Yami in unchecked fury.

"Believe what you wish Pharaoh," he snarled. "But I would never harm my light." The crackling energy followed him, dying as the thief stormed out the door.

"Yami, how could you?" Hurt amethyst eyes glittered up at the Pharaoh, before Yugi darted out of the compartment. "Bakura, wait." Anger echoed down the hikari's side of their bond before it was cut off abruptly as a door slamming.

OOOOO

Silence. Yami's shock was palpable.

"I do not wish to hate you," Ryou told him flatly. "But I could no more bear to loose my other half, than you could to loose yours."

Crimson eyes went wide as the spirit considered this. _Ouch. Not Yugi, I couldn't..._

"You will not even think about harming my Yami." That was an order. The Pharaoh had given a few of them in his time, and he knew one when he heard it. "Unless you wish to see me take his place as the dark side of our soul."

"No." Yami said quietly. "I do not wish that." _And you could be far scarier than your Yami, little one, if you tried. Why did I not realise that?_

"Besides," Ryou continued in a lighter tone, "Kura wouldn't hurt me. He loves me."

OOOOOOOO

The cheerful red of the train wasn't the same colour as blood. Marik stirred restlessly in his soul room, unable to decide whether this pleased him or annoyed him, as he looked out through his hikari's eyes. He could feel the inherent goodness of whoever had created the train like an itch in the back of his mind. Unthreatening, even to him, as long as he intended no harm to the inhabitants of the castle it guarded.

Hikari was delighted, spinning in circles to catch every detail he could of this new world he was entering.

But then, Malik was determined to be delighted, to put aside the rage and bitterness in his past. His anger had frightened him a little, with its ability to warp his view of reality so far from the truth. The Hikari calmed slightly, still grinning slightly as he boarded the train. He sobered abruptly, however, as snippets of conversation reached him.

OOOOOOOo

"He throws knives at me and expects me to dodge. He's proud of me, Yami."

Yami nodded. _Witholding judgement here._

Malik was ever so slightly disturbed by what he was overhearing. Hopefully his Yami wouldn't pick up any bright ideas...

Marik sneered. "The Pharaoh here too? That figures."

OOOOOOO

"Go away." Bakura's fists clenched at his sides and a whisper-thin layer of shadows clung to him like a second skin. He didn't appear to want company.

"Don't worry," Yugi said sweetly. "I won't let him hurt you."

"He didn't - he can't hurt me."

"His mistrust hurt you."

"Don't be stupid. Why should I care what that baka thinks?"

"Because he's your Pharaoh."

"He is no king of mine." The denial came too fast, too vehement to fool Yugi. The hikari looked at him inquiringly. "Oh?"

Bakura was silent for a long time, but it wasn't the defensive silence that some might have expected. "You are so sharp you will cut yourself one of these days, little empath," he said finally. "Be careful when you do, or it could mean your death." The tombraider exuded menace easily and without effort in this mood, but he hadn't meant his words as a threat.

Yugi bowed slightly. "I thank you for the warning, future-seer," he said formally. "I will be."

Bakura smiled.

OOOOOOOOOO

Malik and Marik selected the only empty compartment remaining and settled down for the ride. The hikari sprawled out along one of the seats, blond hair tumbling every which way and his Yami watching silently and almost possessively from one corner. Strangely enough, they could hear nothing from the other compartments, as if the sound stopped short in the corridor. Unconcerned with the block on their ability to eavesdrop, Malik's lavender eyes slitted closed, content for now, to wait.

Marik remained standing, a contemplative snarl crossing his face as he wondered at the train's too easy acceptance of his presence, and unspoken warning to do no harm. He could destroy it, he thought, but found he didn't care to.

OOOOOOOOO

OOOOOOOOO

I **LIKE** reviews. _**Grins hungrily**_ Feed me?

Eris, Goddess of Discord, First Lady of the Order of Chaos.

OOOOOOO


	7. Of Trains and Tactics, Part Two

_I have a livejournal, order of chaos, the link to which is now in my profile. **It** doesn't do weird things to the formatting when I update it either._

_Just for the record, I don't own Yugioh. You do know that, don't you?_

_xxx_

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**Of Trains and Tactics, Part Two**

It wasn't a long trip as such, but they were all quite thoroughly bored by the time it was half over and the tea lady wandered through offering refreshments. None of them planned beyond thinking of what they could eat or wondering if the tea lady was breakable, and how the train would react if she were, but somehow all six of them ended up in the corridor at the same time.

Crimson red eyes met his, and Marik braced himself for Yami's impending attack almost without thinking. He was seriously disconcerted when the ancient Pharaoh flinched slightly instead of striking and murmured a quiet apology to his aibou. An aibou who had grown dramatically since last they met.

The dark yami scowled lightly, instinctively, his attention switching from the Pharaoh's hikari to his own and back again. He knew the warning signs.

Malik's face had taken on a look on rapt fascination. "Yugi. Your hair." The cascade of red and gold and ink-black curls was... "Shiny!" He reached out, and Yami snarled, undecided as to which hikari was the greater threat. "May I touch it? Please?" The plea appeared to be addressed to either of the two tricolours. Flicking another wary glance at his aibou, Yami backed away cautiously.

"It would appear," a silvery voice stated from just behind him, "that we do not have a battle on our hands after all."

Yami spun quickly, meeting amused chocolate eyes. He spent a few seconds trying to work out whether he faced Ryou or Bakura, before realising it was both. And came to the disconcerting realisation that they were, at present, allies, and not enemies after all. "Just as well," he answered, deep voice cautiously friendly. "Yugi would kill me, otherwise."

Rakura looked skeptical.

The Pharaoh reached one hand up to touch the blossoming bruise on his left cheekbone. "It feels worse than it looks then?"

"Hardly." Rakura snorted. Then, "_Yugi_ did that?"

"Hai."

"As in fluffy-kitten hikari over there? _That_ Yugi?"

_xxx_

_xxx_

_xxx_

Marik leaned back casually into one of the long seats, Yugi pulled snugly against him as the Dark Yami rested his dagger at the base of the hikari's throat. Yugi relaxed, resting easily in the grip of his one-time enemy, and concentrated on tranquillising his own yami. The dagger didn't bother him, and besides, he was comfortable. Malik had finally been detached from his hair, and was curled up asleep on Marik's other side.

Rakura murmured sweet nothings in Yami's ear, half soothing, half warning, until the Pharaoh reluctantly relaxed, sniggered, and sat down with him on the seat opposite the others.

_xxx_

_xxx_

_xxx_

"So what are you guys teaching?" Yugi asked sleepily, ending the strangely easy silence.

"Defence Against the Dark Arts, fluff-ball, what did you think?" Despite the scorn, the dark hikari sounded even less awake than the light.

"Well, Yami and I are teaching potions."

"I believe what Malik is trying to convey," Rakura drawled, "is that my letter - and, apparently his also - was an invitation to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts... along with two others."

"It _would_ make sense for it to mean the three of us," Yami commented. "I wonder why it didn't. Why were we chosen at all, for that matter? Not for our ability to teach, certainly - I know nothing about potions."

"We came because we thought that the minions..."  
"Students." Malik corrected.

"Yes dear." Marik neglected to correct himself. "They will be most entertaining."

Rakura looked suddenly interested. "I thought," he murmured, "that the Dark Arts sounded worth looking into." He smiled innocently.

The Pharaoh concentrated his not inconsiderable intelligence and willpower on Not Commenting. Rakura raised an eyebrow at Yugi questioningly, who sighed.

"Yami wanted a challenge - the lack of evil guys taking over the world was starting to get to him, I think. Plus," the hikari tugged at a curl and grimaced as it sprang stubbornly back into place, "they might be able to do something about my hair."

"Their motives are suspect then," Yami stated the obvious. "I believe it would be safest if we conceal the existence of the millennium items, at least for now."

"I agree," Rakura said swiftly.

"So you will do it?" A note of surprise entered Yami's voice.

"Since when have I cared about safety, Pharaoh?" he followed scathingly. "Of course not."

Yugi pulled a rubric's cube from their bag and began a subtly threatening blur of scrambling and unscrambling patterns. Yami subsided.

"I see no reason to explain anything, however," Rakura added. "Why make it easy for them?"

What with homicidal hikaris, uneasy hunches, and immortal mortal enemies that turned out to be not so mortal after all, the Pharaoh felt he deserved a break. And no-one was gong to to give him one. He smirked deliberately. Confidence or arrogance, it was back in place.

"Why indeed?" he answered.

_xxx_

_xxx_

_xxx_

The train slowed.

Red eyes glinted.

Mahogany-chocolate glinted back with deadly amusement.

Two sets, lavender and amethyst, shone with excitement.

Violet venom was clouded by abstraction, a hissed whisper of "shut up, train, or I'll have you taken apart and recycled as sardine tins. Lots and lots of sardine tins."

The doors slid open.

"Everybody's thinking it, I'm just saying it - _It's showtime_."

_xxx_

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**Deleted Scene (This officially does not exist) **

_Sometime during the train ride:_

"Can't you understand plain English?" Bakura snorted.

"Well duh. We happen to be Egyptian. Or Japanese. Whatever."

Yugi looked suddenly worried. "This school we're going to...?"

"Speaks English, and not Japanese, yes."

"It appears we have a problem, then," Yami concluded. "We won't be able to communicate with our students, let alone torture - I mean teach - them."

"That can be remedied." The tomb raider looked smug. He pulled out a jar, in which a couple of three eyed fish were swimming contentedly in circles, and passed it to Malik. "Put one of these in your ear, then Yugi can do the same."

The dark hikari opened his mouth.

"Shut up," Bakura snarled, preemptively. "These weren't easy to acquire you know."

The ensuing debate decided that if they desired to continue their existence, they would do exactly as the tomb-raider instructed. Yami had been no help at all, muttering something about rubric's cubes and bruises, and smugly ignoring the threat to his light.

"Why us?" Malik whined.

"You're the ones who have bodies, ours are just figments of our imaginations."

"Pretty realistic for make believe," Malik commented, prodding Bakura teasingly with one finger. The spirit caught his arm in a lightning movement and gouged something into the palm of his hand with the tip of his dagger. The wound healed unnaturally quickly, leaving fast fading red lines carved in a symbol that in Ancient Egypt had once meant 'first warning.'

_xxx_

_xxx_

_xxx_

_And sorry for the wait. Have fallen in love with Livejournal, and Sparrington. Captain Jack Sparrow, and Commodore James L Norrington locked all my other muses in a box somewhere and hid it. My thanks to the last few reviewers, who helped them break out again._


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